Of course, I look stunning. I don't care what any y'all think—you hyper woman with your smooth skin and youth. You are like a Styrofoam Christmas ordainment, all sparkly on the outside but full of air on the inside. I will not let being seventy-five stop me from swooping in and stealing your man. If you don't think I can do it, then you haven't seen the September Issue of Fitness Forever. They did a puff piece on my incredible body at my age. I hate the tagline that people always throw in. You look great, "for your age." But, whatever. I have won the Nationals in Body Building for my age group for the last five years.
"Carla, don't do it," my baby sister Georgia says. She is seventy-two, and she looks every bit it. She has the tight, curly-do of an old maid. Her body is soft in every place. She is just envious of me.
I look over my dating profile one more time. It is perfect—the picture of me looking off into the sunset on the beach. From my backside, I look eighteen.
"What are you going to do when a nineteen-year-old shows up and finds great-grandma at the door?"
"I will deal with that when the time comes." I hold out a massive wad of cash and fan myself with it.
"Basically, you are pimping yourself out?" Georgia says in disgust.
"You'll see. I will be married in a year to a hot pool boy."
"Why would you want another man in your life? I loved Alfred, but I would never want to marry again. I love the freedom of being single."
"But you miss Alfred."
"Yes, with every fiber of my soul. But some stupid man is not going to bring Alfred back, so I prefer to stay alone and enjoy the last years of my life traveling with friends. Delete your phony account and go to Greece with me next week."
I look at Georgia and then at my profile.
I press enter.
"Too late! It is done. I am going to be sought after so hard that I won't have time to go to Greece with you."
"You are pathetic," Georgia says.
I have a date set with Vincenzo within hours of publicizing my dating profile. He is a little older than I had hoped. Thirty-two, but he will do. He has an odd profile. -A magician who does children's parties. He sounds like a loser, but man-oh-man, he is Italian-hot!
I insist on driving my Porsche to win him over.
We fly down the winding road, and I drive like I am in the Indy 500. But the elephant in the car I must address.
"So, are you sure my age doesn't bother you?" I ask. When I first met him, he smiled pleasantly. I had watched his eyes closely, but he didn't look disappointed.
"Oh, no. Age is fine. Mature women don't play games. I am done with games."
Oh, he has no idea. I am filled with games.
Everything feels perfect. Vincenzo lets me do all the talking, and I talk. I sum up seventy-five years over dinner. He holds my hand as we walk places. He is a gentleman who opens the door. Does he want to go out with me again, or will he change his number?
"I had good time," he says, kissing me on the cheek. He looks sincere, but the real test will be if he answers my call tomorrow.
"How about I come tomorrow night to your house and do magic for your sister you told me much about."
A rush of elation and disappointment fills me. I am ecstatic he wants another date. But why does my sister have to be a stupid third wheel?
"How about I invite her a different time? I want to get to know you better," I say as I twirl my hair.
"Sister must be there. That is how trick works. With sisters."
I had no trouble convincing Georgia. She wants to see if a young guy likes me. So, we sit in our living room as Vincenzo sets up two pine boxes in the middle.
"Okay sisters, Georgia in left, and Carla in right."
"This is exciting," I say.
I step into my box, and Georgia steps into hers. I can hear Vincenzo saying magical words.
"Come out," he says, and we do.
"Carla!" Georgia screams. I look at her and scream myself. She looks amazing! Vincenzo gave her a body like mine. Georgia hasn't looked like that since…well; never. Even her face appears at least fifteen years younger. I must look extra hot if he could do that with Georgia.
I run to the mirror and scream.
It's my face on Georgia's body. I look ninety.
"I hate this trick!" I go back into the box. "Switch us, now!" I demand.
"No can do. I give you what you deserve," Vincenzo says.
"Please," I beg.
"I don't mind staying this way," Georgia says.
"Okay, I have idea. I do final trick." He leads me to the couch. "Sit by sister," he says to Georgia. He drapes a silky red blanket over our faces.
"Count to hundred, then remove cloth," he says.
I count as fast as I can and then throw the blanket off. Our bodies haven't changed. I look to Vincenzo, but he is gone. And so are his boxes. The last trick was his disappearing.
"No! This is wrong. This isn't fair," I whine.
I search for Vincenzo but never find him.
After a year of my new reality, I accept I have a body of a seventy-six-year-old. I let go of all of my vain ambitions, which feels refreshing and gives me a freedom I've never experienced.
And, I have a blast in Greece with Georgia.
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Tricked
by Stephanie Daich
